


A Man in Uniform

by deansdirtybb



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Incest, M/M, Military Uniforms, Power Dynamics, Rimming, Roleplay, Uniform Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2014-07-26
Packaged: 2018-02-10 14:02:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2027766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deansdirtybb/pseuds/deansdirtybb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean wears a uniform…Sam REALLY likes it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Man in Uniform

**Author's Note:**

> AN #1: So I may have written an innocent email to my lovely friend dimeliora which may have broken her brain. Oops. To make it up to her I decided to write a fic from that email. There are absolutely no ulterior motives related to my slight uniform kink. I’m only sorry that it’s taken me a year, a whole fucking year, to get this done. I hope it’s worth the wait – Here’s a fic about our beautiful Dean, sweetie – Enjoy!
> 
> AN#2: Thanks to my beautiful betas katstark and sleepypercy. You ladies are too amazing for words and get all the hugs <3

**Rating** :  NC-17  
 **Warnings** :  Wincest, uniform kink, role-playing with a power dynamic, blow job, rimming, fingering  
 **Disclaimer** :  I’m just borrowing these characters (if only these pretty, pretty boys were actually mine).  I make no money here; my only profit is the joy and ruined panties of my readers.  
 **Spoilers** :  Possibly for 8.20 Pac Man Fever…but mostly the wardrobe really ;)

 

 

 

**A Man In Uniform**

Once they had Charlie safely tucked into her car and on her way, curiosity got the better of Sam.  “So, recurring nightmare instead of happy place, huh?”  Dean only nodded, so Sam pressed on, “I’m kinda curious about what would be in Charlie’s nightmares.”

  
Dean frowned, thinking about Sam and Charlie’s mother lying in the hospital beds unconscious, but then the sight of Charlie coming off that elevator in an eye patch and bullet holster surfaced and a smile replaced the frown.  “Vampires.  Super-soldier vampires.  Some video game she pirated.”  Sam grinned and Dean went on.  “Dude, she was wearing an eye patch.  Said ‘Come with me if you want to live.’”  Dean chuckled.

 

“What about you?” Sam asked.

 

“Me?” Dean asked, brow furrowed slightly in confusion.  “No. No eye patch for me.  Was in some kind of military get up.”

 

“Oh?” Sam asked, fidgeting a little in his seat. 

 

Dean had an idea where this was headed, but that didn’t mean he was going to make it any easier on his little brother.  “Yeah.  I think Army…newspaper said 1951, so I’m guessing Korean War?”

 

Sam swallowed, “Fatigues?”

 

Dean shook his head.  “Nope.  Dress.  Bars on the chest.  This dull greenish color.”

 

“Olive?” Sam supplied, mouth going dry as he imagined the way Dean’s eyes would be brought out by that color.  Dean nodded absently.  “Any stripes on the sleeves?”

 

“You got a thing for the uniform, little brother?”

 

“Wh-what? N-no.  um. What?  No… _no_.”  Sam’s face turned red as he stuttered out the denial.

 

A slow grin crawled over Dean’s lips.  It’s not like it was the first time it had come up, Sam having a thing for one of the costumes they have to wear for the job.  The first time Sam had talked Dean into the Fed suits, they’d been an hour late to interrogate a witness because Sam had taken one look at Dean and pushed him up against the closed door, dropped to his knees and pulled Dean’s dick out of the pressed slacks to suck him down so fast and hard Dean saw stars.  The reason Dean so readily donned a collar to play a priest was that it was a recipe for an instant hard-on for his little brother.  There were few things in the world hotter than Sammy pulling at that stiff white collar and adjusting the black pants in an attempt to conceal his arousal.

 

Sam took in the look on Dean’s face and quickly changed the subject to avoid any further teasing.  “So, how did you get her to break the loop anyway?”

 

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Months later they were working a case in another small town.  The storefront next to the scene of the crime just happened to be a costume shop, and there, hanging in the front window, was a nearly perfect replica of the uniform Dean had worn in Charlie’s nightmare.  He let Sam take the lead on the questions and the first chance he got he ducked out and hurried into the costume shop, leaving with a box he hid in the trunk of the Impala.

 

That night, he sent Sam on the beer run, even though the younger Winchester bitched about it the entire way out the door.  Dean just smiled as the door snicked shut behind Sam and then grabbed the box he’d stashed under the bed.  He stripped out of his flannel and jeans quickly, decided to lose his boxers, and then carefully dressed in the olive uniform.  He made sure to line the buttons up with the fly of the pants, right down the center line of his body.  He tied the drab necktie and pulled it in line with the buttons before pulling on the jacket, pinning the bars to the chest and buttoning it up.  He brushed his hands down the stiff fabric one last time.  Catching a final look in the mirror, one corner of his mouth quirked up.

 

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Dean stood at attention at the foot of the bed furthest from the door, and when he heard Sam’s keys fumbling around the lock, he pulled his shoulders back and tightened his posture.

 

Sam finally got the door open and came in ass first balancing several take-out containers, a six-pack and a plastic grocery bag.  “Sorry it took me so long.  Decided to get food after I grabbed the beer.  They didn’t have pie so I had to go to three….different…”  Sam trailed off as he turned around to get his first real look at Dean.  His arms went lax and he nearly dropped everything he was holding, just barely managing to set it all haphazardly on the faded chair by the door.

 

“What-what are…?”  Sam’s brain and mouth couldn’t work together to form the question, so he took a deep breath and stepped further into the room to get a good look at his brother.  Dean’s sandy hair had been carefully and neatly parted and combed instead of tousled into its usual spikes.  His jaw was clean-shaven, the muscles tensed, but Sam could see the twitch of his full lips fighting off a grin.  Sam’s eyes traveled down Dean’s neck, taking in the caduceus pins in his collar – really? Not just an army uniform, but a doctor too?  Fuck.  The tie was perfectly knotted and in a nice straight line.  Sam had simultaneous visions of ripping it off and of Dean using it to tie Sam’s hands above his head.  There on Dean’s chest were the bars he’d mentioned, the pants were perfectly pressed, creased just so and falling to just the right height above the spit-shined dress shoes.

 

“Do I pass inspection?” Dean asked as he watched Sam drinking in every detail.

 

Sam cleared his throat and fixed a serious expression on his face, though his dilated pupils couldn’t be hidden.  He clasped his hands behind his back and started a slow circle around his brother.  Dean’s uniform was a perfect fit, stretched taut over his broad shoulders and hugging his round ass in a way that had Sam forcing his hands into fists just to resist reaching out to palm the firm muscle.  By the time Sam came back around to face Dean he was half hard and more than ready for the next step of this game.  However, he thought he may have a slightly different idea than Dean of how he wanted this to go down.  He hoped Dean would be able to pick up his train of thought with a hint or two.

 

“No, sir.” Sam answered.  “Not here to inspect…I’m reporting to you, _sir_.”  Sam emphasized the last word and watched as a look of confusion passed over Dean’s face for just a second before he realized what Sam was doing.  Dean quickly and easily stepped into the lead.

 

Dean stepped up to Sam, looking him up and down.  “Looking a little sloppy, soldier,” Dean said, plucking at the tails of Sam’s untucked shirt. 

 

“Yes, sir.”  Sam straightened his posture, hands at his sides, facing forward and making himself purposely not look at his brother.  Dean had paced around behind him and was standing so close Sam could feel his breath on the back of his neck.

 

Dean fisted a hand into Sam’s hair, tugging his head back.  “Your hair’s too long.” It was whispered hot right into his ear and shivers ran across Sam’s skin.  Dean released his grip and Sam’s head sprung forward.  Dean walked back around to face Sam, “And you’re late.”

 

“Sorry, sir.”

 

“Wasted my time, didn’t you, soldier?”  Dean began yanking buttons open on the jacket.

 

“Yes, sir.” Sam stared straight ahead.  He heard the sound of Dean tossing the military jacket onto the bed.

 

“I think you need to make that up to me.”  At that, Sam’s head snapped towards Dean and he licked his suddenly dry lips.  “On your knees, soldier.”  When Sam hesitated, Dean added a gravelly, “That’s an order.”

 

Sam dropped to his knees and found himself at eye level with Dean’s fly.  There was a growing bulge behind it and Sam’s tongue flicked across his lips again.  He watched Dean’s hands as they moved to his belt to open it and then the button, his fingers lingering teasingly on the zipper.  Sam felt his mouth water and his lips twitch as Dean slowly drew the clasp down separating the metal teeth.  “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath when he saw Dean was naked underneath, his hard, thick cock standing out from a nest of dark golden curls and protruding from the utilitarian fabric of the uniform. 

 

Dean looked down at him.  “Now, soldier, you are going to suck my cock.”  Dean fisted his hand in Sam’s hair again and leaned down so his gravel-sweetened tone poured right into Sam’s ear.  “And you’d better make it good.”

 

He straightened and stood over Sam, who looked up at him with darkened hazel eyes and said, “Sir, yes, sir.”

 

Sam ran his tongue over his lips and leaned forward; he wrapped his long fingers around the base of Dean’s cock and held it steady as he licked slowly up the underside from his fingers to the tip.  When he reached the slit, he looked up into Dean’s eyes as he teased his tongue into the small opening.  Sam lingered on the sensitive area, tonguing around the hole and dipping in, and he let his hand start to move up and down the shaft.

 

Dean cursed as Sam’s thumb pushed into the vein while his tongue pulled a pearl of precome from his slit.  Sam smirked, pink lips smearing through the fluid and saliva on the head of his brother’s cock.  Dean fisted a hand in Sam’s hair, tugging back to tilt his face up.  “Enough teasing, soldier.  Suck it.”

 

Sam raised his hand in a salute as his mouth sank down around the head, tongue tracing around the flared edge as he pushed deeper.  He bobbed up and down several times over the head and the first inch or so of the shaft, until Dean’s grip loosened in his hair.  As soon as Dean’s hand fell to his side, Sam wrapped one hand around Dean’s hip, fingers rubbing over the stiff fabric of the army uniform.  His other hand held the base of Dean’s cock as his mouth worked to drive his brother to the brink.

 

Each dip of his head brought Dean deeper into his mouth, until it began to nudge the back of his throat and Sam had to concentrate on suppressing his gag reflex.  Once he had it under control, he let his cheeks hollow out a little more, supplying Dean’s leaking dick with more suction and resulting in a gasp from above him.

 

Sam let his hand work in counterpoint to his mouth as he continued to suck Dean deeper and deeper into his mouth.  He focused his attention on letting the thick head pass his tonsils without choking, eventually letting his muscles relax enough to let Dean’s cock slide into his throat.  His eyes watered and his lungs burned, but it was always worth the reaction of his brother completely losing control.  Picturing Dean in that stiff uniform as he fisted his little brother’s hair and thrust his cock down Sam’s throat was worth every second of discomfort.

 

Dean’s breath came in faster and faster gulps and the words tumbling from his full lips became less and less clear, and when Sam felt Dean’s fingers tighten in his hair as he grunted out, “Sammy,” he knew his brother was close.   One swallow was all it took to bring Dean over the edge.  Dean pulled back far enough to spray his release across Sam’s tongue, and Sam waited for every spurt and then swallowed greedily, drawing another groan from the elder Winchester.

 

Sam sat back on his heels and swiped at the runny mess on his chin.  “That good enough, Sergeant?”

 

Dean tucked himself back into his pants, but left them open.  “Yes, private.  I believe you have earned a reward.  On your feet.”  Sam stood, and Dean pointed at the table.  “Drop your pants and lean over the table.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Sam repeated as his hands made fast work of unfastening his belt and fly.  He pushed his jeans and boxers down his legs and bent over the table.

 

“Head up,” Dean ordered.  Sam raised his head to find that Dean had angled the bathroom door so the full-length mirror now reflected him bent over the table and his uniform-clad brother behind him. 

 

“Legs apart,” Dean commanded.  Sam spread his legs and felt his brother’s calloused hands on his ass, firmly grasping the muscled globes and gently spreading them apart.  Sam watched in the mirror as Dean knelt behind him and leaned forward.  He shouted when he felt his brother’s hot, wet tongue sweep over the sensitive pucker of his hole.

 

Dean’s hands took a firmer grasp and pulled Sam further open, and his tongue returned to its target, licking over the rim until the ring started to loosen.  He stiffened the muscle and pressed it past the first ring, thrusting in and out of his brother’s hole until Sam was pushing back into it.  Dean felt Sam drop his head and reached up to gently tug his hair back, reminding him to keep his head up.

 

“Oh, fuck,” Sam groaned when his eyes took in the image reflected in the mirror.  His own face, slack-jawed and wanton, lips swollen and red from abuse, his hands gripping the edge of the table, and his naked ass in the air and on display.  But it was the sight of Dean, still in full dress uniform, kneeling between Sam’s spread legs, face buried between his ass cheeks, that made his cock twitch and pulse out precome.  Sam’s eyes fell on a lock of Dean’s hair that had worked free of his carefully combed style; it brushed across Dean’s freckled forehead with every stroke of his tongue.

 

Several more teasing thrusts of his brother’s talented tongue had Sam falling apart and aching for something more, and when Dean sealed his mouth around Sam’s hole and sucked Sam lost all ability to maintain the character of the role play.  “Deeannn!” Sam cried out.  “Please.  Please, Dean.  More, need more.  _Please_.”

 

Dean drew his mouth back, his finger now tracing the rim of Sam’s asshole.  “More?  Think you can handle it, soldier?”  Sam nodded vigorously.  “What was that, soldier?  Can’t hear you.”  Dean’s fingertip barely breached the opening and Sam sucked in a breath.

 

“Yes, sir.”  Sam panted out.  “Gimme your best, sir.  I can take it.  Want it.”

 

Dean smirked a filthy grin as he pushed his finger all the way into Sam in one smooth motion.

 

“Oh, fuuuuck,” Sam moaned, pushing back against Dean’s finger.

 

“You are eager to earn your sergeant’s favor, aren’t you, boy?”

 

“Sir, yes, sir,” Sam grunted with another thrust back onto Dean’s finger.  Dean grabbed the lube he’d stashed under the table and poured it onto his fingers.  He thrust back into Sam with two fingers, watching in the mirror as Sam’s head fell back and his face scrunched in pleasure.

 

“Eyes. Open. Soldier.”  Dean punctuated each word with a thrust and Sam groaned as he forced his eyes to open.  Another curse fell from his mouth when he took in the sight of Dean bent over him, rough fabric of the uniform scratching over the skin of his ass, the necktie hanging loosely and dragging across Sam’s spine.  Dean chose that moment to add a third finger and press forward into Sam’s prostate.

 

Sam spread his legs further apart, and pressed his ass up, fucking back into Dean’s fingers and searching for another stroke to that sweet spot his brother teased around.  Dean allowed the pads of his fingers to graze the gland once more before holding them in a position to purposely avoid giving Sam what he wanted so badly.  Sam whimpered when the plunging digits continued to neglect the place on which he most needed pressure.

 

Dean looked into the mirror, waiting until Sam met his gaze in the reflection.  He wrapped a hand around Sam’s hip, letting his fingers tease the line of his hipbone.  “More, soldier?”

 

“Y-yes, Sir.”  Dean’s hand slid forward and his fingers wrapped around Sam’s wet, aching cock.  Sam cursed and immediately bucked into the touch and then back into Dean’s fingers.  Dean felt Sam’s channel clench around his fingers and his cock twitched in his hand and he quickly clasped his finger and thumb in a tight ring around the base of Sam’s dick.

 

He leaned down to Sam’s ear, voice coming out in a near growl. “You don’t come until you’re given the order.  Understood?”

 

Sam gasped and nodded.  “Yes, S-sergeant.”

 

“Good boy.”

 

“Fuck,” Sam cursed and had it not been for Dean’s grip holding it off, he would have come.  Dean chuckled and it drew Sam’s gaze back to his brother’s face.

 

Dean began pumping his fingers in and out of Sam’s clenching hole and then let his other hand return to stroking his cock.  Sam fucked forward into Dean’s grip and backward onto his hand, sweat beading on his forehead with the effort not to come.

 

On the next thrust into his brother, Dean pressed into his prostate and Sam’s head snapped up, his eyes focusing on the mirror again.  He could see Dean’s head bowed, that same loose lock of hair now sweat-plastered to his forehead, the buttons of his olive shirt were still aligned, but the tie was looser and just off-center, the pants were still open giving an occasional glance of Dean’s prick.  He felt the scratch of the wool from the uniform against the back of his legs and the cotton of the shirt rubbing his hip as Dean stripped his cock.

 

His older brother was gorgeous, and playing his body perfectly and, god, Sam just needed to come so badly.  He bit his lip, a whine escaping him.

 

“Alright, soldier.  On my command, I want you to come real pretty for me.”

 

“Yessir,” Sam breathed out.

 

Dean twisted his stroke around the head in time with rubbing back and forth over Sam’s prostate as he ordered, “Come.”

 

With the simple word and the command in Dean’s tone, Sam’s back arched, his hole clenched and his cock shot thick, hot, ropes of come into Dean’s hand and across the table. 

 

Sam collapsed onto his elbows on the table, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.  Dean chuckled behind him.  “Knew you had a thing for the uniform, little brother.”

 

Sam pushed up from the table and grabbed one of the bags from the chair.  “Shut up and eat your pie.”

 

Dean winked.  “Shut up and eat your pie, _sir_.”


End file.
